sweat pants

my friend and i once talked about how all of us want mr. big (yup--i'm referencing the most cliche dating show of our generation). we want that crazy, noncommittal guy to commit, so we try or we at least look for him. the sexy, successful, romance-you-while he's in town man. and as we're doing it, or at least while i am, we get swept away. we know it's dumb. we know he's in control. and we know it's going no where. the thing is, my friend that i was chatting to mentioned, during the same conversation, that she had found her steve. and although that makes her the miranda (and let's be honest, no one ever wants to be miranda), she's happy. she's unstressed. and she's secure.
i was never secure, not ever with phoenix. i think, in ten months, i wore sweat pants one time. one time? in 10 months? and i am a sweat pants girl. i also started smoking cigarettes to deal with the stress of the back and forth and the ups and downs. and the confusion. because when you're casually dating someone for 10 months, it is confusing. and when he's gone or when he's here and didn't call or didn't text or didn't ask what i was doing, i became confused. but you can't tell big you're confused. he'll think you care too much or are becoming too attached or want more than what his job or heart will allow him to give.
and so i, personally, ate my confusion and my attachments. i hid that, sometimes, he hurt my feelings, and sometimes, he made me feel like i didn't matter. for 10 months, i allowed myself to believe that it was okay to feel like i didn't matter. i allowed myself to believe that the time i spent with my big was worth the pain of feeling unimportant during other times.
what i've realized is that steve may be short, and not cute, and casually unsuccessful or at least not passionate about his work, but he would make me feel like the most beautiful girl in the world all the time. He would love me, even in sweat pants.

living.

i'm not really a dumb girl. but this time, this time, i was dumb. the bad part is that everyone, including me, knew that i was dumb.
one time, jack johnson sang to me, "you don't always have to hold your head higher than your heart." i think i'll blame my latest romance saga on him. because i didn't hold my head higher than my heart. i dove, heart first, into phoenix every time i saw him, and every time i thought of him.
honestly, it's over. this time, it's over for real. and now, my heart hurts. the whole time, my mind told me to stop, to get out, to look into the future and realize it was going no where. but isn't that life? isn't that love? isn't that what makes us get up in the morning...the feeling of diving in, heart-first?
as i lay, in my pit of despair, i still don't regret any of it, because if i'm not diving in, then what am i doing? observing, sitting back, watching the world go by? my heart hurts, and there's noting i can do to make it feel better, but sometimes, maybe, the pain of the ending is worth all that happened before. at least i know i'm alive, and at least i know i'm living.

crazy love.

it made things easier for me when you became a little crazy and you called and you texted and you emailed even though i asked you not to.

and it's crazy too that every time your number lights up on my phone, i still smile awkwardly, and maybe, sometimes, i giggle shyly as though it is the first night we met.

clear waters.

I've found that a substantial portion of our days are spent worrying about the first date. And maybe the second date. And maybe the third through twentieth too. And then, suddenly, the worry and stress disappear, and with it, the pedestal. I have a friend who has been dating her boyfriend for about four months. In that time, they celebrated Valentine's Day, a birthday, an anniversary, and have traveled away for a weekend together. For the first 121 days, it was fun and romantic and silly, but then, on that 122nd day, he fell off the pedestal...and, maybe, she did too. Because, when we're first dating someone, we have the privilege of LOVE GOGGLES. The goggles shield us from the bad, the gross, the grimy, the unattractive; they allow us to dive. And so, dive we do--head first into bliss. Inevitably, however, the water becomes murkier (or perhaps it finally becomes clear), and we see, for the first time, someone who drinks a little too much, or sends texts that are a little too silly, or is a little to shmoozy, or maybe even leaves a few too many skid marks. For my friend, when her goggles came off, she found herself looking at someone who, as he held her face in his hands, said, "did you use to have a uni brow?" I think it's maybe safe to say that her goggles weren't politely or even slyly removed. Her amazing new boyfriend casually picked up a hammer and shattered them. It was then that she realized she is not casually dating a new boy; it's perfectly clear she has a real boyfriend who likes her a lot. Perfectly Clear because he loves to look at her and notice all of her...even her beautiful flaws.

winter contrast

i always hate winter most
you can't smell hamburgers
on the grill
or drink oberon on the porch
laughing softly with friends
or listen to bluegrass while
swaying at outdoor amplitheaters
or walk barefoot through the grass
feeling its softness against your skin
or feel the july sun
making you warm all the time
and instead, you awake
thirty minutes early to scrape
inches of ice coating the windshield
and shiver violently
against the coldness
and watch the world pass by
as you gaze out your window
stuck and immobile
But in the winter, you can
go to the mountains with a friend who
invited you when you didn't expect it
and he'll make you warm,
for a little bit
late at night
when you allow yourself to feel loved

sitting in it.

Why is it that when things end and we say goodbye, it's never really over? There's no magical switch to tell our hearts and minds and even bodies to turn off and turn away. There's no way to just let it end and be done. Relationships, whether platonic or romantic, heavy or light, dramatic or uneventful, are a part of us for a long time. Even when it should be over and ending words are exchanged, all the feelings stay--they stay and we sit with them, because that's all there is to do.

I have two friends who have dated for years. They've shared vacations, hobbies, friends, a dog, an apartment, and even a trip around the world, but lately, sharing seems to be difficult. There's tension and obvious unhappiness--everyone sees it. I think even they see it. Yet, they go on. He tried to end it once, but it didn't take. I think that sometimes, sitting with the ending is harder than struggling through a relationship that no longer makes you happy. And that is the odd part. As adults, we understand the concepts of long term happiness and measurable success. Our professional careers, financial stability, and big decisions depend on commitment, logical thought, and intensive planning. So why is it that when it comes to love or even casual dating, we throw caution to the wind and act out of impulse, desire, and sometimes even fear. We see things going in the wrong direction; we're not dumb--we can see the warning labels and the dead ends--it just never occurs to us to use logical, rational thought when it comes to relationships. Take my friends for example. Recently, they traveled abroad, but while traveling, their relationship was so strained and forced that they ended their adventure earlier than originally planned. I think, at one point, I heard him say, "things got so bad in France that we had to come back to the District." About a week after returning to the states, they began dating again. The thing is, my friends are financial analysts. They spend their days looking at and measuring solid data. When their numbers dip in the wrong direction, they devise strategies and prepare, in advance, for future failures...so, why, when it comes to their failing relationship, do they not prepare for a solid future? They continue on the same crooked and distorted path with shadow of doubts looming every where. And in truth, the saddest story isn't really about what happens when we break up, the sadder story is about what happens when we don't.

jacob

today, in a book conference with one of my 8th grade students, we discussed the differences between edward's love and jacob's love. (for all of you non-tweens, we were discussing the twilight saga). i have always been on team edward. i have loved the bella-edward love story since day one. but my twelve year old companion, put up a great argument for jacob...and for this i love my job. she explained to me that yes, edward did love bella, but really, bella loved edward more than life itself. she would do anything just to catch a glimpse of him--she risked death, her family, her home, all in the name of loving edward. and he appreciated her, but at the end of the day, he left her when she needed him most, and he needed her to change. jacob, on the other hand, was a part of her world every day. he never asked her to sacrifice anything. he was there, like a rock. he was there as her friend, as her protector, as a member of her family, all the time. he never left her, even when she didn't give him everything he needed. he loved her in her current state, and never asked her to change into anything new for him.
and that conversation casually changed my life. i looked at my student and i told her she was right. that as she grew up, she needed to look for a jacob black. and she needed to appreciate him and love him and allow him to love her just the way she was.
i've spent my days chasing my edward cullen. the truth is, i've already had my jacob black, and i let him slip away. in real life, our jacob blacks are never as cute as our edwards, and they usually don't have his amazing abs, but they'll love us forever, just as we are. and that is amazing.